Closer
by crimson crash
Summary: Harry and Draco finally come to understand just how much…passion is in the word hate. HD Based on NIN Closer
1. Far as possible

Part 1 Complicate You  
  
"you let me violate you, you let me desecrate you  
  
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you"  
  
I stood in shock as he looked at me. I'll never understand how green eyes can show such fire. I grew being told fire was red, occasionally orange or yellow, or else it wasn't fire. But this was fire; I could feel it melting me down. I could feel myself shiver under his gaze hoping he didn't notice it. If he had, he'd know he was winning. And Malfoy's always win. The Boy Who Was Supposed To Be Dead was not going to change the way I lived. He was not going to violate the way I worked. So instead I just stared back into his eyes. His fire.  
  
"Why is it that you're only happy when I'm in pain? Why is it you're a dirty, immoral bastard, yet it's when I'm with you that the earth spins and I feel right?"  
  
I just stared. It's not as if I couldn't have answered. I could have. Should have. Would have. If I could stop looking into his eyes, his fire. Suddenly, I was very hot. It was as if the fire from his eyes was warming me. Burning me. I tried to look away, but I couldn't even breathe. My breath caught in my throat and I knew my loss was showing. He knew he was winning. God, if only he knew why. I felt like I was going blind. Soon my eyes would start to water. Soon I wont be able to do anything but lose myself in the fire. I was losing comprehension. I was getting irrational. And suddenly my entire being was filled with Harry's fire and I felt desecrated. I felt broken. He knew he'd broken me too. And he looked away. All of sudden, my comprehension came back, and I was able to realize that Harry's fire was a mirror of myself, and my hate. My hate because Malfoy's are allowed to hate and all. Just as long as you win, which I knew I hadn't. I closed my eyes and fought against my urge to open them as I felt Harry's gaze on me again. How dare he, I thought to myself, how dare he look at me and take everything I have left. He's already taken everything that mattered. Why won't he just leave me alone? I opened my eyes and looked quickly into Harry's puzzled expression. The fire was gone. The hate, for now, was gone. The fire flickered away in my pain.  
  
"Well? Are you even going to answer me? Are you going to come off your high horse and stop being so bloody wicked?"  
  
"Are you sure that's what you want. Potter?" I stated it all as if it did not matter. Even though we both knew the words were by far the most important spoken the entire night. I stated it all nonchalantly except for his name, which I said with an unfamiliar, even for them, icy chill. Harry seemed taken aback. He simply looked into the gray pools of my eyes watching my every movement, my every fearful twitch. I watched him back, in slight horror thinking about how to make him answer, now that he was angry, downright livid actually, it was going to be harder. But not impossible, nothing's impossible. Just being here with Harry was proving that to him. Then as unexpected as my own statement had come, came Harry's.  
  
"Don't think you actually mean anything to me. Don't think you ever will. Don't think I want anything from this relationship that I cant get somewhere else. Don't think you mean anything.  
  
The words cut me deep. I didn't bleed; the wounds were far deeper than that. I felt the jagged edges of what Harry was saying. I knew he was lying. He wished what he said was true, but even that much struck me to the core. Made me want to die. I really wish this could have happened some other way. But looking back, I realize it couldn't have, and don't see how I couldn't have seen what we were doing before it got to where it was now, and would be forever. Forever, such a sick and twisted word. Young couples who think they know what love is whispering 'forever' into each other's ears. Married people lying through there teeth and wishing constantly that the love they'd thought they had would come back, never realizing what a sick word love was as well. Love was not what people made it out to be. It wasn't lucky. It was hell. Love took hate, and what most people thought was love, was nowhere near how far Harry and I have gone. We are in love. But the only problem with this, is what most people look over, love is hate, just another way of interpreting it. I'm almost bloody sure that only Harry and me know that though. We're definitely one of a kind, I just wish that I'd never met him, being with him is hell and heaven all at once, and I'm tired of it.  
  
"You don't mean that Harry, the only thing that should mean nothing is love, we both know that." 


	2. Close to you

Part 1 Complicate You  
  
"Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I've got no soul to sell  
  
help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself"  
  
'Malfoy, I-' I stopped him short. I placed my hand over his mouth, causing his face to contort with the usual emotions, horror, contentment, and confusion all at once. The way we usually look when we start to express our love. It's so hard, I really wish I didn't know the lengths hate really meant. I know now, it's scary how deep that word is. Hate means love and visa versa. But mostly, its just the fact that hate means you cant stand a person so much that you have dreams of ripping there soul out through there heart but really don't even want to get That close to them. I dropped my hand and held back the tears.  
  
"Harry." I chocked through clenched teeth. "Draco Harry, Draco. Please." I know he could hear the raw emotion in my voice. I knew he could feel the terror tremor through my body as I pleaded with him softly. "Harry, I cant.I mean." I mumbled incoherently trying desperately to show Harry how much I needed, how much I wanted him. I was broken without him. He's taken my soul from me. He stole it the first time he kissed me. Well not the first time he kissed me. The first time he.loved me. The first couple times we kissed was just spite and hate; we hadn't yet encountered the part of our lives where we could never return. The time in our lives where we would grip the pillow and cry ourselves to sleep at night. No one would understand us if we tried to explain our emotions. It was like fire and ice. The fire in his eyes, the fire of our hate, the fire in my soul; the ice of my eyes, the ice of our 'love', the ice of his soul. Even though he would never admit his soul was ice, it was. How else could he thaw through my layers to get to where I really knew what my world was about, and ironically enough, it just happened to revolved around The Boy Who Was The Only Thing That Worked For Me.  
  
"Draco." started Harry, softly, trying not to hurt me. It's not that he didn't care, don't get me wrong, he just hated me as much as he loved me. "What are you trying to say?" He asked without patronizing me, but smiling because we'd been through all this before. "I'm listening, I'm always listening."  
  
The unintentional truth in that phrase momentarily froze my thoughts and I just thought about what it wouldn't be like if he wasn't always listening, what it was like before then. What it was like before The Boy Who Lived stole my soul and kissed me like I was God. Before, all I could think about was this obsession with Harry. Before I actually knew what love was, and how I wish everyday I could just go to hell, and stop suffering in this hell on earth.  
  
"I need you Harry."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Do you need me?"  
  
"More than I can ever tell you."  
  
"I'm sorry too then."  
  
"It's okay."  
  
"No, no its not. I for one will never be okay again, Harry."  
  
"I know, me neither. But as long as I have you with me it's not as awful, I guess. Sometimes"  
  
"I know, but sometimes, that's just the problem isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
And then  
  
"I'd better go."  
  
He flinched in the bluntness of the statement. Of course he should. Why shouldn't he?  
  
"Yeah, I guess I should too." It's not as if I wanted too, but as I should have explained earlier, I make very few decisions, I just sit and watch as my life goes up in flames. Flames held in Harry Potters eyes. Ironic. Harry started getting up and was walking towards the door as I sat on the desk tabletop looking at the floor with evident interest. Or at least I hoped it looked like I was interested. I couldn't look up at Harry because every time I looked at him it was all I could do to make sense of the words spiraling in my head such as 'kiss him', 'fall into his arms', and things much more graphic that if I even think about now, will ruin me. But we never kissed. And right now, I knew that if I looked up at him, I wouldn't be able to help myself. As I said previously, I was barely able to help myself just thinking about it. Suddenly the room shifted and Harry had turned around, I looked up and fell into the fire of his eyes, he touched my cheek right under my eye, where he'd hit me in a fight we'd had earlier today over Weasley. He leaned in slightly looking me straight in the eye, and kissed my bruised face. My breath caught in my throat and suddenly he kissed me. He hadn't kissed me like this in weeks; he kissed me with tender pain and suffering. Pain and suffering that near killed me, because I knew it was my entire fault that any of it was his. It was times like this that killing myself seemed less petty. I never did it though. Any guesses why? Because it would kill Harry. He barely talked to his friends anymore. I saw it in his eyes. I saw it everyday as we stared off into the darkness of our lives at lunch and dinner. Needless to say, I didn't talk to my friends much either. And if I killed myself, he'd be incomplete, I knew this because it's what I feel every time I'm away from him. As Harry deepened the kiss I felt a tear running down my cheek, these days were wearing me down, and the whole 'A Malfoy Never Sheds A Tear, He Hides His Pain Rule' had gone out the window. It wasn't soon after that I felt my tears mingled with Harry's. I broke the kiss in a low pained cry, I wouldn't let Harry cry on my account, it just wasn't right. Breaking the kiss probably wasn't a very good idea, because as soon as I did, I felt so much pain in the back of my mind saying that Harry was only playing with me, that Harry didn't in anyway love me, that Harry could never love someone such as me. These thoughts occurred to me often, and every time they did, I had to cry myself to sleep at night. Damn, I wont be sleeping at all tonight.  
  
As if reading my thoughts Harry backed up, not even bothering to wipe 2 minutes tears going down his reddened cheeks, and stated quite clearly, "You look tired, and we better be leaving anyway. Good Night." And with that he was gone. I don't think I've ever seen him move so quickly. Wait, yes I have, every time I look at him without hiding my pain and love and hate and every raw emotion filtering through my eyes, he flees. He run's because it's exactly how he's feeling, and he doesn't want me to feel it too. How do I know this you ask? Because a Malfoy knows everything. 


	3. Close as possible

Part 1 Complicate you  
  
"You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you  
  
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you"  
  
I don't know why I did it. But just seeing him there, and I felt all the heat in my body rush to my head and if I hadn't touched him I would have fainted, or something worse, felt his pain in my bones. That's one thing we've got. We can read each other like a book. No better than that. We know what the others thinking, only to cower from it of course. We know the emotions of the others face so well that if for a split second something changes we know exactly what it is, and believe me, we cower from that too. That's what we've been reduced too, cowering little children hiding from the likes of Love. Letting myself have a good snicker at that, a small low one that only Draco could ever understand. One showing how remarkably unprepared we were. The Golden Boy was in love with The Slytherin Who 'Knew All'. Totally crazy if you asked me. So I pushed him against the wall when he tried to make a joke out of it all. It's not funny it's downright obscene. What's obscene you may ask, all of it I would answer you. Knowing you still wouldn't understand, I'd laugh and walk away. It would cruel to try explaining. It was unimaginable, it was unexplainable, and it was a heaven in hell. It was burning to death in a land of ice. It was, it was everything. When I'm with him, the world tilts and I fall into his arms. I feel horrified and perfect and I'm all of a sudden back in that world of ice, where everything's on fire. He says my souls made of ice; I'm only now starting to believe him. I melt him. Just like he burns me. Just touching him now makes everything spin and I fall into his arms. Again. Sighing I reach up and ask him the only question I could ask that would mean anything.  
  
"Why is it that you're only happy when I'm in pain? Why is it you're a dirty, immoral bastard, yet it's when I'm with you that the earth spins and I feel right?"  
  
He just stared, I could see in his eyes the answers to my questions. I could see them swirling in his head. I could see that if he weren't so caught up in how angry I was to speak, he would have. He really should have, I was getting tired of not knowing how we got stuck with each other. But I did know didn't I. It was all the hate we had wasn't it? Bitter Irony. So I just stared back at him waiting for the answers I knew he'd never say. I got lost in the hidden pools of expression. They were ice. I felt frozen in place by them. Mesmerized. I felt him caught too, I felt him trying to look away but locked, I couldn't leave him like that. I couldn't stand it when he was weak. I'd never tell him that though, I couldn't tell him he had taken everything from me. And by everything I do mean it. He'd taken my pride, he'd taken the very me and placed it where he could get it whenever he would like. But I guess I'd done the same to him haven't I. Damn; I looked away quickly not wanting him to read my thoughts. He couldn't know that I was in pain too. When I looked back at him, still waiting for the unnecessary response to my unnecessary question, his eyes were closed. Even with his eyes closed I could feel his pain and suffering. I confused me how I had left this man so weak and fragile, just by being myself. He opened his eyes looking right into mine saying everything with just one look but I refused to except that answer, I didn't even want to know if that was the real answer. So I asked again, my anger weakening considerably under his icy gaze.  
  
"Well? Are you even going to answer me? Are you going to come off your high horse and stop being so bloody wicked?"  
  
His response came before I was even ready for one. Before even I had calculated the words through my mind.  
  
"Are you sure that's what you want. Potter?" I shivered under his voice. I shivered after his use of my last name. I shivered just because he knew I didn't want the answer. There I was again, cowering from him. He was winning again, that's all this was, a sick scary game, where no one ever won. It was impossible to win. But then again, anything's possible, just being here was proving that to me. I looked straight into his eyes again; I'd dropped my gaze after he'd said my name with such the icy chill. He never used that chill. Not with me.  
  
"Don't think you actually mean anything to me. Don't think you ever will. Don't think I want anything from this relationship that I cant get somewhere else. Don't think you mean anything."  
  
I could literally feel the words shake him. His eyes flickered and I could feel him wanting desperately to run away from the words before they calculated his mind. I knew he knew that I was only wishing. He was now a part of me. I didn't feel right without him. It was like I was forgetting something all the time when he was away. I knew he felt the same too. I don't know how, maybe the 'Malfoy's Know All' thing was rubbing off on me.  
  
It was times like this when I knew he wasn't playing games with me. Not an unusual thought for me. I mean, what if this was all a sick joke and he was video taping my emotions and playing them for the Slytherin house? What then? But not now, not when my lies were so visibly shaking him. Even he knew they were lies, but just the fact that I wanted them to be true was enough to bring him to near tears. The tears seemed to sooth him though, as if letting go of some pressure held deep within him. They probably were too. He spoke strongly and confidently, even though his fists were clenched so tight that the knuckles were whiter than his usually pale skin. I dropped my hands from his shoulders where they had been pressing against him. He took a deep breath and looked up into my eyes, his wet and mine not far from and spoke into my hair.  
  
"You don't mean that Harry, the only thing that should mean nothing is love, we both know that." 


	4. Far from you

Part 1 Complicate You  
  
"Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I've got no soul to sell  
  
help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself"  
  
'Malfoy I-' I started. He stopped me suddenly, the raw pain obvious in the way he looked at me. I felt my face contort as he placed his hand over my hand before I could go any further. Harm him anymore. I knew he couldn't handle it, and I really couldn't blame him. I couldn't handle it either. I felt my face change from horror-struck to pleasured to bewildered beneath his touch. I don't really hold my emotions as well as him. He makes me feel like all I'm doing is right when I kiss him, but when he kissed me I cant help but be sickened by it, at least to a certain extent. The only problem is, I know he feels exactly the same way as me. He just hides his emotions better than I do. I wish I could be that good for him. I wish we liked each other. All the people who like each other are actually happy. They don't know what it is to hate, but they also don't know what it is to love. Lucky bastards.  
  
Harry." He choked, his teeth clenched. "Draco Harry, Draco. Please." I could feel him weakening. I could feel his body starting to drain. He didn't like begging, and that's exactly what he was doing. He didn't plead like other people though. When he did, he threw his entire being into what he was pleading for. It had to be his.  
  
'Harry, I cant. I mean-' he was mumbling but I understood him totally. Of course, that's the way we were isn't it? We read each other without even trying. I wasn't going to hold it against him though. I'd wait for him to say it. He had to say it. If he didn't, and I did he'd just deny it and he'd grow into his ice again. I couldn't do that; I needed him too much right now. Right now and forever. Forever, such the cruel and ironic word. Cruel because, if you even had a hint of what forever would mean, you'd want to die and never know what it was to live again, because forever hurts. It's just a slow-wear-down of who you are, were, or might have been. Ironic because you always think you'll spend 'forever' with the Perfect person. Well if you perfect person really does exist I'm sorry. I found my perfect person, and want to die everyday.  
  
"Draco." I spoke softly, trying to make his pain go away. Like when a mother kisses her child after they fell, or like when someone says 'I love you' and expects it to fix all. Well I'm not all that high and mighty, but if speaking softly would make his pain lessen, even a little, then maybe mine would too. "What are you trying to say?" I knew it was pointless in asking, one way or another I'd get my answer. But I always ask, if not just to be polite. "I'm listening, I'm always listening."  
  
I knew what I'd said would be strangely truthful, but it wasn't until the words were out there that I realized how much they'd cut. Wanting to apologize, but also wanting to see him bathe in his pain, just like he'd left me so many times, I just stood there trying not to hurt him further. I saw him freeze up after registering the words, I saw him realize the unintentional irony in them and I stifled a bitter laugh knowing it would only add to his pain. As much as I hated him, I loved him just the same. Bitter, bitter irony. His response came just as shocking as it always had. I'd never be prepared for the eerie truth behind the words.  
  
"I need you Harry."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Do you need me?"  
  
"More than I can ever tell you."  
  
"I'm sorry too then."  
  
"It's 'k."  
  
"No, no its not. I for one will never be okay again, Harry."  
  
"I know, me neither. But as long as I have u with me it's not as awful, I guess."  
  
"I know, but sometimes, that's just the problem isn't it?"  
  
"Yes of course. I'd better go."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I should too."  
  
I could feel that he didn't really want to leave, but of course I didn't either. I had too, if I didn't not only would Hermione start worrying, but also I would probably end up in Draco's arms. Not that I'm complaining, but I'd be missed, and tomorrow, I'd feel dirty and wrong. That's another problem with our relationship, when I'm with him, everything's right with the world, but as soon as we come to pass again, I feel wrong and soiled. I, I had to get out of there. I started towards the door, but could sense the pain filtering through Draco and I couldn't just stand there. I stopped looked back at him and couldn't help myself.  
  
I walked over and touched the bruise on his otherwise perfect face. I saw the damage I'd caused. I kissed him on the bruise. I don't know why, but I thought the act of the gesture might make him feel a little better. God, if I'd only remembered that being this close to him, I lost control. I think I need a memo pad. Suddenly I was kissing him, as I said before, MEMO PAD! I knew I'd feel wrong tomorrow, but I didn't care anymore. I felt the world spinning. I felt my feet leave the ground. And suddenly this hell on earth had moved to heaven. I deepened the kiss and felt the tears of pain and joy fall down my face mingling with Draco's. I could feel him gasping for air, but not ending the kiss. He was where I was. Air was secondary. Living wasn't even worth thought. Just as long as we had each other. We clung to each other as I deepened the kiss and the tears fell faster, for both of us. Abruptly Draco broke the kiss with an almost silent cry. I could see the hurt fall across his features as he realized what he'd done. He'd broken the first kiss we'd shared in weeks. And he only had done it to end the pain the kiss was causing. We always forgot to realize, that when we parted ways, the pain only came back greater and more painful. I could see his hurt cross his face, and I just couldn't stand there. I had to leave.  
  
"You look tired, and we better be leaving anyway. Good Night." I muttered quickly and easily. I said it every time we left each other. I loved him, and hated him. What the hell else was I supposed to do? I closed the door softly behind me and stopped right outside the door. I can't show him my pain he already has all his. I need to be stronger. I need, I need. And then I just couldn't stop the tears. I fell against the wall and sat there thinking of all the things that Draco had done for me. What have I ever done for him? 


	5. Whipped Cream

Part Two Inside  
  
"I want to fuck you like an animal  
  
I want to feel you from the inside"  
  
'Harry, Harry.' he inwardly moaned. The name rolling off his tongue onto his lover's body. He licked his way down the side of his neck and lower.not stopping until he rolled over in his dream, hitting the side of the uncomfortable sofa he was sleeping on.  
  
"God fucking damnit." He whined, punching the pillows. He sat up, running his hands through his hair before realizing what a lost cause it is and looks for his pocket watch. "Nine.forty- two. Marvelous. Fuckfuckfuck. Okay." He says, wondering why he hadn't set an alarm and why he'd slept here in the first place. Well, he knows why he slept here. The emotional exhaustion caused him to lie down and not be able to move.  
  
He stands, his hands over his head in hopes of stretching out the knots in his back. He hums quietly, inwardly realizing he has about 17 minutes to fix himself up and make the oh, about 15 minute walk to the dungeons for potions. With Potter. Fuckfuckfuck, indeed.  
  
He rummages around the floor in attempt to find his wand before reaching into his robes and locating it. "Lumos." He mutters in attempt to lighten up the darkened room. "Ah, that's a little better." He mutters a spell to clean the wrinkles in his robes and hair, knowing he'll wish he'd taken that shower. He wipes away the sleep from his eyes once more before gathering up his things and making it to the dungeons. Not that he was very excited. It would be another period full of Crabbe and Goyle asking what him and Pansy had done. Far fetched of them to think he'd spent a better part of an hour licking his way down Harry Potters body. Not only in his dreams, too.  
  
--- He enters the potions classroom at a run, breathing a little heavily. His breathing causes a few of the nearby girls to giggle and an even nearer by Harry Potter to get a little hot and bothered. He smirks slightly as he sees Harry turn a little redder and smirks even more as Weasly doesn't notice the difference.  
  
Sitting down in his seat he takes the chance to listen into the trios conversation.  
  
"Harry, you just don't seem yourself, okay?" Hermione. Of course. She's a smart one, too bad she doesn't have the nerve to ask what she's really thinking. "Who are you fucking and why wont you tell me? Or at least Ron? Because he'd tell me?"  
  
"Hermione, I'm fine. Just tired and-"  
  
"Class, settle down. We're working in pairs today. Everyone give me the utmost attention or I'll see to it that you're paired with Longbottom all term." This statement accompanied by giggles from most of the Slytherin side proved that yes, Neville could turn redder and Hermione could do with being a little more jaded. Her lips pursed and you could tell Harry was holding her hand under the table.  
  
As Snape started to pair everyone off, Draco let his thoughts drift off. They were back in the room like they had been last night. They were back to the place where nothing mattered except that they were wearing far too much and not doing at all enough. Draco felt, actually felt Harry's hands run down his chest and lower, forever lower until all he could feel was Harry. Harry on top of him, Harry next to him, Harry slowly starting to be inside him.  
  
The thoughts had always caused the emotion to come running back. He could feel the pain everywhere. And not the sex kind. The kind where it hurt to think because it was all Harry. The kind where you were beginning to become drenched by the rain but it was okay because maybe it would numb it all away. He really wished sometimes it could be sweeter. He really wished sometimes his thoughts about love were real. Like how when he was little he'd imagined a snowy day. And him and his lover would lie down in the snow but just be warmed by there love. And not ever have been scratched; tarnished; hurt by the hate. He didn't even know why he hated him. He loved him because it was so easy. Easy to be lost in his not quite perfect smile. Easy to be lost in his strong but soft arms. Easy to be lost in him.  
  
It was always such animal passion.why couldn't there ever be the sweetness? One time he'd been feeling adventurous so they covered each other in whipped cream. They licked it off each other carefully, but when they were done he'd noticed a little bit on the side of Harry's right cheek.  
  
He'd smiled and kissed it off and for just a moment they were all alone with there giggling and pillow fighting and soft kissing. Draco had accidentally muttered, "I love you", into the side of Harry's neck. And it had all come crashing back. Malfoys don't giggle. They don't use food with sex. They don't have sex with half bloods. And with that he was gone, again. 


End file.
